Prisoners of War
by Arrietty
Summary: Sam is taken prisoner and finds someone there who she wasn't expecting. SJ Season 6
1. Chapter 1

Prisoners of Warby Arrietty 8 of 8

**Prisoners Of War**

by Arrietty 

Chapter One

Day 1

Major Samantha Carter leant against the ruins. She felt totally surplus to requirements. This mission had been completely uneventful and there was no way that they had needed her expertise. _'Why on Earth did I volunteer?'_ she asked herself. Her thoughts wandered over to the rest of her team, who were currently elsewhere. Teal'c had gone to visit Brat'ac and his son Rya'c. He had managed to take Jonas along with him as General Hammond had let him go. They thought it would be a good experience for him to have a break and also see how the Jaffa were living. Colonel O'Neill had muttered something about fishing. A small smile flitted across her face as she remembered the look he gave her when he mentioned what he was going to do.

But no, she had decided that going to this wet, cold and miserable planet would be much more fun. With a sigh, she started to walk the perimeter. Ever on guard against anything that might cause trouble. She had tried to help the scientists, but they had resented her intrusion on their experiments. Normally, she would be just as excited as the others about what they had found, but for some reason she couldn't concentrate and anyway, they didn't need her. With a horrible realisation, she found she was bored. Rolling her eyes in frustration, her thoughts went back to the colonel again, "this must be how he feels," she muttered to herself. It had been five cold, wet, nasty and very damp days that they had been there. So far, the scientists had found some things, but not enough to pique Sam's interest.

Looking at her watch for the fifth time in the last hour, she noticed that they only had three more hours to go before they were due to go back to the SGC. Most of the equipment had been packed up, ready to go, but that had only taken one hour, now she had to fill in the rest of the time. Yes, she decided that she had spent way too much time with Colonel O'Neill, as she was thinking way too much like him. Her attitude towards scientists had deteriorated with the weather.

There had been no warning. From out of nowhere, the death gliders swooped down on their small group. Sam immediately dove for cover and fired

her weapon at the gliders, but to no avail. She watched, as many Jaffa warriors walked towards them from through the forest. They were totally surrounded. She recognised the insignia on their foreheads, as that of Baal. This was not good. Putting her weapon down in surrender, she

watched helplessly as they were all rounded up into a group. She was the only woman out of six members of the team. For some reason the Jaffa didn't take much notice of her, and ignored her as they tied up the scientists. One of the Jaffa came up to her and grabbed her arm and then she heard the familiar sound of the Stargate being activated. Just as she was pushed through the open wormhole, she saw the scientists fall to the ground as the remaining Jaffa killed them with their staff weapons. As soon as they were through the Stargate, she was thrown to the ground. Sam groggily climbed to her feet and backed away from the approaching Jaffa. Lifting up his zat'nik'atel, he fired the electric charge into her body. 

Sam was hanging upside down and her head was banging against something very hard. Opening her eyes, she could see the rough trodden path below the Jaffa's feet as he marched in long strides. Realising that she had been flung over the Jaffa's shoulder, even though it was uncomfortable, she decided that playing possum was most probably the best idea. She also made a discovery, that Jaffa armour is extremely hard on the outside, especially if your face made contact with it at regular intervals.

It wasn't long before her transport stopped and she was thrown, unceremoniously, onto the ground. Immediately, she regretted her decision to pretend to be unconscious. With a groan, she slowly stood up and took in her surroundings. She was with a small group of men and women, about twelve in number. Though the Jaffa were guarding them, they didn't seem to take much notice. Sam, realising that they didn't see her as a threat, took the opportunity to escape. Slipping quietly away into the dense forest, she found a place to hide, hoping that the Jaffa wouldn't miss her.

Over the next several days, Sam managed to keep from getting captured by the many Jaffa that guarded the planet. She didn't have her GDO anymore, so she knew that if she managed to get to the Stargate, she would not be able to gate directly to Earth. She had thought long about where she was going to go. The Alpha site would be the most sensible, but however hard she tried to, she could not get anywhere near the Stargate. On the first day, she had unsuccessfully penetrated the wall of guards patrolling the heavily guarded gate and only just succeeding in alluding capture. She thought it would be better to find food and shelter and wait them out. Maybe then she would finally get a chance to use the Stargate.

Due south just three hours walk from the Stargate, there was a small village. Sam spent the first night raiding the village for food and blankets. Taking only a little, so hopefully they wouldn't notice things were gone. During the day, she had bunked down and slept in a small cave that she found up in the hills. Sam hoped that no one would find her - she had to sleep sometime.

It was on the morning of the sixth day, that she was captured. Sam had exhausted all of her supplies of food. So, for the second time, she ventured into the Village. Even though dawn had not broken yet, they had been lying in wait for her. Obviously, the food and blankets that she had stolen before had been missed.

Once captured, she was roughly pushed into a group of people. They all were speaking different languages and they looked like they were from different planets. Unfortunately, this time the guards kept a close eye on her. There was no opportunity for her to escape.

Sam was herded along with the other prisoners, towards a large compound. They were a motley crowd, their clothes all different colours. Some were bright and colourful, while others were dull, like her BDU's.

The compound was large, with huts formed into rows. It reminded her of the POW camps that she had seen news footage of, from the Second World War. They were pushed forward into the back of a large crowd, by the guards. All the prisoners had been assembled for some reason that Sam was not aware of at first. Then she heard the crack of a whip, a split second before the sound of the sickening smack of it hitting flesh. Someone was being punished. She couldn't see who it was, but she could see the poles that the prisoner was hanging from. Each wrist was attached by rope to the top of two large thick poles, stretching out the victim's arms.

Slowly, she made her way through the crowd, until she came to a wire netting fence that separated her and her fellow prisoners from the compound. It was strange, there were quite a few people in the compound, but they consisted of old people and children. She saw a few pregnant women. One of them was propping up an obviously very sick man as they were made to witness this atrocity. Looking away from these people, her gaze moved over to the man that was being punished. By now he had obviously passed out, his head was hanging down onto his chest facing away from her. Even though this man was not feeling the pain, the guard carried on with his merciless beating. He was using a long bullwhip. It bit into the flesh. The blood had run down the prisoner's back and had soaked into the pants he was wearing. His tunic had been left in a pile, just by his feet.

A Jaffa, who obviously was in charge of this compound, stood up and made an announcement. He spoke in Goa'uld, she only understood some of it, but it was enough to get the gist of what he was saying. Concentrating, she started to work out the words. Basically, he was saying that this man, the prisoner, had tried to escape and that if anyone tries to do this, they will be punished like this. Through the announcement the guard had ceased his beating, but as soon as the Jaffa had finished speaking, another guard had taken a bucket of water and thrown it over the prisoner to revive him. Once he was revived, the guard carried on with his beating.

Slowly, all of the heavily guarded prisoners that were outside the compound were moved through the gate. Once they were inside the compound, they were each handed a threadbare blanket. Further down the line, they were given a small bowl with a thin, grey looking gruel slopped into it and a small flat loaf of bread. Sam quickly tucked the bread into her jacket and zipped it up. Moving on slowly towards the huts, she was suddenly, grabbed on the arm by a guard.

"You. Come with me."

Immediately, Sam thought the worst, but was relieved to see that all the new people were being taken into a long low shed. There, they were handed some clothes, which consisted of long pants and a tunic, with long sleeves. It was obviously the uniform for the prisoners. They were told to remove all their outer clothing, including any footwear. She was very loath to give up her boots, but she had no choice. Fortunately, she was able to keep her underwear and her T-shirt. _'At least that would help a little, with keeping me reasonably warm',_ she thought.

By the time she had come out of the hut, the beating of the prisoner had stopped. He was unconscious again. Sam did not go anywhere near the prisoner as she did not want to draw any attention to herself. A woman alone in a prison, where the men and women were not separated, was not good.

Moving quickly, she found a dry area, down beside one of the huts. She was hungry; she hadn't eaten for two days. For the lack of a spoon, Sam drank the foul tasting gruel and scooped the sludge that had sunk to the bottom into her mouth, with her fingers. Feeling still slightly hungry, she resisted the temptation to eat the bread also. They had all been told that they wouldn't receive any food until tomorrow night, after they had done a days work. Curling up tight, with her back to the wall and the blanket wrapped firmly around herself, she fell into a light sleep.

Sam felt a sharp pain in her side.

"Kree! Get up."

A guard roughly pulled her up off the ground, waking her in the process. By the soreness of her ribs, she was quite sure she had been kicked.

"You can't sleep there," opening a door. "You can sleep in here." He pushed her into the hut that she had been sleeping against and slammed the door shut behind her.

Cautiously, Sam moved through the sleeping bodies, until she found a clear spot. At least it was warmer inside. While she had been asleep, the sun had gone down and it had turned quite icy. Sam could hear murmuring from some of the other inmates. After a while, she could work out what they were saying.

"I tell you. He is going to die."

"Good riddance," someone replied gruffly.

"He'll be dead by morning. With no water all day and with this cold, he won't survive. Someone should cut him down."

Another voice speaking slightly louder, questioned. "Do you feel sorry for him then?"

"No. No," he quickly denied.

Sam shutting out the cruel words, started to drift off to sleep. With a sudden realisation, she opened her eyes with a start. Very carefully, Sam stood up. With her blanket securely wrapped around herself, she made her way through to the door. She had the food bowl clutched tightly in her hand. As soon as she was outside, she moved over to the tap and rinsed out her bowl and filled it with water.

Moving stealthily across the compound, she made her way towards the prisoner. She was relieved to see that he was still alive as she could see him moving slightly and could hear him moaning in pain. Fortunately, it was quite bright, as torches were erected all around the perimeter of the compound, so she could see his outline. She was surprised that the guards ignored her as she moved closer to the prisoner.

The light was glinting off the surface of the blood that coated his back. Every so often, he would push his body up while he tried to put his feet on the ground, but each time he tried, his legs gave way and he groaned as the weight pulled on his already bloodied bound wrists. As Sam got closer to him, her suspicions were becoming stronger. Trying to contain her emotions, she walked around one of the poles so she could see his face. One look at the top of his head, her fears were confirmed. It was Colonel O'Neill. _'What is he doing here?'_ she thought.

"Sir." She spoke softly. Speaking a little louder, she spoke his name again. "Sir!" But there was no response. So she tried something else. "Jack!" Immediately, his head came up.

"Carter?" His voice rasped out. "Is that you?"

"Yes. I'm here. Come, drink this, you need it."

"What are you doing in this hell hole?"

"It's a long story, sir. Drink."

Carefully holding the bowl to his mouth, she watched as he drank sparingly, remembering not to gulp it down. When he seemed to have had enough, she removed the bowl.

"Carter. Can you get me down from here?" With this question, Jack looked straight into her eyes. Sam was horrified to see how he looked. His cheeks were sunken in and he had dark marks under his eyes. His cheek was swollen and covered with clotted blood, as was his mouth. The half grown beard was stained dark which added to his ragged appearance. Sam had noticed that all the men had beards or half grown ones here.

"How long have you been here?" she asked.

"Five days, I think, maybe six. I don't remember."

Reaching up, Sam started to undo the knots that held one of his wrists in place. They had pulled tight and the blood soaking into the hemp had made them harder to undo. But, eventually, she managed to remove one rope. With a suddenness that she had not been prepared for, Jack's body slammed into hers, as his arm fell from where it had been secured, making his body swivel around.

Holding him up, she asked, "Sir?"

Trying to stay conscious, Jack gasped out. "My arms have gone numb."

"Lean on me," she said unnecessarily as he was already was.

Reaching up to the other arm, she found this was more difficult, because she had to carry most of Jack's weight as well. Also, she knew that as soon as his other arm was released, she would have to carry all of his weight and she wasn't sure that she would be able to do that.

"Teal'c would come in handy about now," she muttered under her breath. Hearing a quiet snort come from Jack, she knew that he had heard her.

Even though she was prepared this time for the increased weight, she still nearly fell over, as his dead weight fell onto her. Carefully holding him, trying her hardest not to press too hard on his ravaged back, she gently lowered Jack to the ground. He sat slumped over, hugging his arms to his chest.

"Argh."

"What?"

"Pins and needles."

Nodding in sympathy, Sam bent down and retrieved the blanket from where she had dropped it. Carefully, she laid it over Jack's chest and legs, making sure that it didn't touch his back. Lifting up his discarded tunic, she tied it around her waist by the arms. She crouched down and offered the bowl of water to Jack.

"Here."

"Thanks."

When he had finished drinking, Sam tipped the rest of the water onto the ground and placed the bowl inside her tunic. Removing the blanket from Jack's shivering form; she then tossed it over one shoulder. Bending down again, she helped Jack up off the ground. Once again, being very careful not to damage his back any further, even so, she had to place an arm around his body to support him as he was extremely weak. They made their way slowly towards the nearest hut. Fortunately, it wasn't the hut that Sam had been in previously, as she didn't think that the three men that had been discussing Jack earlier would appreciate her bringing him into their hut.

Once they were inside the hut, she noticed that there were less people, which made it easier to find a space. Quickly laying the blanket onto the cold wooden floorboards, she then lowered Jack face down onto the blanket, using his tunic as a pillow.

"I'll be back," she whispered to Jack.

When Sam was outside, she refilled her bowl with water. Just before she moved back into the hut, a Jaffa guard approached her.

"Here." He said gruffly, as he roughly pushed some clean rags into her free hand. Without another word, he turned away and walked off.

Sam, muttering "thank you", went back into the hut.

By now Jack's whole body was shivering uncontrollably. Chastising herself for not thinking of it before, she wrapped his feet and legs in the blanket and then started to wash away the blood. The whip marks had cut deep into his back, and his wrists were swollen and raw. After cleaning Jack's wrists, she then wrapped them in some of the cloths that the guard had given her.

When she had cleaned the excess blood from Jack's back, she was horrified to learn that they hadn't been careful of his kidneys, as the lash marks were quite low down. Laying clean cloths onto his back, she then wrapped him up further with the blanket. Through all of this, he hadn't made a sound. Each time she touched his back, he flinched, which was barely noticeable amongst his violent shivering. With a sigh, Sam laid down next to him, moving as close as she could without hurting him. Hoping that combining their body heat would keep them protected from the cold night.

8


	2. Chapter 2

Prisoners of War

**By Arrietty**

Chapter Two

Day 1

Colonel Jack O'Neill was trying his hardest not to break the speed limit, but it was hard. He had, only fifteen minutes ago, received a message from General Hammond that something was not right. He had the sinking feeling that this concerned his team. Because of security, nothing specific could be said over the phone, just get there as soon as possible.

Fifteen minutes later, he screeched to a halt in the car park. Slamming the door behind him, not even bothering to lock it, he raced to the entrance way to the complex. He barely looked at the guard who checked his ID. Slipping into the elevator he made his long descent into the deep bowels of the mountain.

When he finally came out on level 27, he made his way to General Hammond's office. He never got there as he found General Hammond and SG-9 sitting around the briefing table.

"General Hammond. What's up?"

"Early this morning a group of Scientists led by Major Carter failed to return at the designated time."

O'Neill managed to keep his face clear of any expression, while his heart and his stomach met in the middle of his body. Telling himself to remember to breathe in and out, he asked the obvious question. "Has a team gone in to find out what happened?"

"Yes, Colonel. SG-9 is just de-briefing now. If you will, please take a seat."

Jack didn't even think of where he was sitting, he just sat on the closest seat that he could find. Reigning in his caustic remarks, he waited patiently for what he didn't want to hear.

"Major, please, proceed with your report."

"Yes, sir," he answered Hammond.

Turning towards Colonel O'Neill, he ran over what he had already reported to the General.

"When we arrived at PBX 253, there were no sign of Jaffa. Unfortunately, we found the scientists, apart from one of them, they were all dead."

"Doctor Goren is now in critical condition undergoing surgery," General Hammond quickly interrupted.

Jack began to feel the room start to move away from him, as he stared at the major, listening, but not listening to the words that he spoke. All he could hear in his mind was 'all of the scientists were dead…all were dead…all were dead…'

"And Major Carter? Where is she?" At first he wondered who had spoken, then he realised that it was himself.

"We don't know, sir. There was no sign of her."

Immediately, the room began to move back into his vision again and everything looked normal.

"Did you look?" he asked accusingly.

"Sir, we looked everywhere. There are still two teams off world looking for signs of her. But we believe that she was taken through the gate."

"What makes you say that, Major?" Hammond asked.

"From the signs on the ground, it looked like the Jaffa fired their weapons at our people from the direction of the Stargate, then turned and moved through. We could see foot prints that could be the major's, but then we had walked over that ground, so we can't be sure."

A puzzled frown came across the major's face, as he observed O'Neill. Who was bent over looking under the table.

"Colonel O'Neill. What are you doing?" Hammond queried.

"Sorry, sir." O'Neill's head popped up over the ledge.

"What size boots do you all wear?" He asked the major. "Because Carter's feet are pretty small and as far as I can see your boots are all big. Have you measured the foot prints?"

"Actually, sir, we have. The lab has them now."

Nodding slowly, Jack looked at General Hammond, "Request permission to help with the search, sir."

"Colonel O'N…" Hammond stopped speaking as an airman came into the briefing room with a message, which he handed to the General.

All the members of SG-9 and Jack watched the general read the memo. Looking up at the men sitting around the table, he made an announcement.

"Doctor Goren has just regained consciousness and he knows where Major Carter has gone. Major, you and your team are dismissed. Colonel you're with me."

All six men left the room, SG-9 to the showers and General Hammond and Colonel O'Neill straight to the infirmary.

Doctor Goren was lying on one of the beds, with a large white dressing on his head. He was also heavily bandaged around his chest and abdomen. He was hooked up to several monitors and IV's for pain control. The effects of the anaesthetic had begun to wear off.

"Doctor Goren, what happened?"

"General, they came out of nowhere. The death gliders, I mean they must have come from a ship. There hadn't been any activity through the gate." Then he spoke in a much quieter voice. "They took Major Carter, I got the address and then they shot us all - for no reason."

"They don't need a reason, they are Goa'uld." Jack said harshly.

Doctor Goren continued as though O'Neill had never spoken. "They just killed everyone. The next thing I remember, I woke up here. No one else survived, did they, sir?"

General Hammond slowly shook his head. "No, son, but we have hope for Major Carter, with the address that you have, we can try and find her."

"Actually, sir, I don't know the address."

"What!" O'Neill leaned menacingly over him.

Hammond quickly intervened. "Doctor, you said that you saw the address before the gate shut down. What do you mean?"

"Yes, sir, I did, but I don't remember the address, though I do remember writing it in my notebook. Do you have my things?"

"Yes, we have your things, but I don't believe there is a notebook amongst them. It wasn't listed amongst your possessions."

By now O'Neill was looking extremely angry. "Sir, we have to go back and search the area."

"Yes, I concur," nodding to the sick man in bed. "Thank you, Doctor"

As they exited the infirmary, Hammond quickly gave his orders. "Colonel O'Neill, as soon as we have the MALP readings, you can take SG-3."

"Yes, sir."

A short while later, Colonel O'Neill, with SG-3, were waiting in the gate room. They were already geared up and waiting for the MALP readings to come back.

"You have a go, Colonel." General Hammond announced from the control room.

Without hesitation, O'Neill led SG-3 up the ramp and through the wormhole. On reaching the other side, he looked around and waited for the rest of the team to follow. Once through, they immediately started a thorough search of the perimeter. Fortunately, it only took half an hour before one of the team members found the notebook. It was slightly damp, but thankfully still legible.

O'Neill barely waited for the marine to hand the notebook to him, before he started quickly looking through it. Finding an address written untidily on the back of the book, he then didn't waste any time, dialling the address for the planet where Carter had been taken. The MALP was quickly organised to go through the gate. One of the SG-3 members had a screen set up, so they could see what the MALP could see. O'Neill tensely stood in front of the screen clutching the P-90 that was strapped to his chest. His knuckles had turned white with the pressure of his grip. The screen showed a leafy planet, and then a person walked in front of the camera, blocking the scene. Then, a curious face looked into the camera. With horror, O'Neill recognised the symbol on the Jaffa's forehead. Baal. They watched as the Jaffa warrior stood back and lifted his staff weapon, armed it and fired at the MALP. Then the screen went blank.

'Crap!'

The Stargate then, shut down.

"Quick, dial up home."

"Yes, sir."

Back at the SGC, General Hammond stood at the bottom of the ramp, as SG-3 followed by Colonel O'Neill, came out through the Stargate making the familiar plopping sound.

"What happened, Colonel?"

"Well, we found the address, but…" Turning his head slightly on its side, he grimaced. "…the MALP was destroyed as soon as it went through. They must have a guard at the gate. Permission to ready a strike team to go through, sir."

"Permission denied. We cannot lose any more people; this obviously is a fortified planet."

"Sir. With all due respect, I don't thin…"

"Jack. I'm sorry, but it is not going to happen. It is too much of a risk. You know that."

O'Neill clenched his jaw and stared at General Hammond.

"Go and get cleaned up and report to the infirmary. Briefing in one hour. You are dismissed," he said firmly.

General Hammond watched Colonel O'Neill walk woodenly out of the gate room towards the elevators. _'I know how you feel, Jack, believe me, I do.'_ He thought to himself.

The following day, Colonel O'Neill was in the locker room getting ready for a routine mission. He had requested this mission. Recalling his conversation, he went over what had been said the previous day with General Hammond.

_'Request permission to go with SG-12 to PX-921, sir.'_

'SG-1 are on stand down, until further notice, Jack.'

'I know, sir, but I need to keep busy. And these guys need a replacement for Major Harrington. It's only a routine mission; we'll be back by tonight. The mission would have to be aborted, if I don't go.'

'All right, you have permission.'

'Thank you, sir.'

He hoped that General Hammond hadn't got too suspicious, but he hadn't stopped him yet. So, hopefully, his plan would work. He just wished that Teal'c and Jonas were not off world at the moment. He could do with their help. _'Maybe just as well,'_ he realised.

The three members of SG-12 were green. They had only gone off world three times before and the last time, their CO had been injured in an accident. Normally, Jack would not have enjoyed baby-sitting a bunch of green horns when going through the Stargate. But this was perfect. They wouldn't be suspicious of his behaviour.

After they had come through the gate, O'Neill ordered them to check the perimeter. All three were sent off together. He waited until they were out of sight and hopefully out of hearing and then started to dial the gate. As he stepped through the gate, he not only knew that there would be a very good chance that he would be captured, but he also knew he was saying goodbye to his career, but that was not important anymore. There was only one person that was important.

They had been waiting for him, of that he had been certain. As soon as he came through the Stargate, he was surrounded by Jaffa. The last thing that Jack wanted was to be held prisoner by Baal, but if he wanted to find Sam, he knew being dead was not going to help. So, reluctantly, he gave up his weapons. After being thoroughly searched and stripped of anything mechanical, including his watch and his jacket, they chained his legs together. This made it extremely difficult to walk, so he hoped that he wouldn't have to walk far. They hooked his arms over behind a metal bar. Jack groaned inwardly as soon as he saw this device remembering being trussed up like this before. The leather strap that was fastened around his neck stopped him from moving his head easily. A heavy chain ran from the leather strap down and was fastened to the chain that bound his wrists, which were on either side of his body.

The rocky ground was hard to manoeuvre over so he stumbled and fell often. Jack had numerous cuts and bruises on his face and body, from when he made contact with the ground. Each time he fell, one of the Jaffa guards would roughly pull him up by the metal bar, putting pressure on his already aching arms and shoulders.

It was a hard climb and Jack was not given any food, water or rest. As they approached their destination, he could barely stand. He was exhausted, bruised and very sore. He also felt cold, even with the exercise of the forced march. By now, they were almost dragging him along by the rope that was attached to the leather collar.

Jack was hot and thirsty he knew that if he didn't get some kind of liquid in him, he would suffer from serious dehydration. All he could see were the Jaffa in front of him and he had long since stopped taking any notice of his surroundings. Just placing one foot in front of the other, was a mammoth task. The first time that Jack found out that they were at the base of the steps, was when he tripped over the first one. Not being able to put out his hands to save himself, he smashed his knees, upper body and face into the unforgiving stone steps. Immediately, he felt the blood begin to trickle down from his knees, the material on his pants covering his knees, were now non-existent. His skin totally exposed to the rough stone. A Jaffa guard roughly pulled him up by the metal bar, until Jack was once again, standing. His nose and mouth hurt, he just hoped that he hadn't broken his nose, as blood streamed down over his chin and fell to the ground. He cautiously felt around his mouth with his tongue, to see if he had dislodged any teeth. He felt relief when he found that they all seemed to still be firmly lodged in his now very sore mouth.

He was forced up these very steep stairs. They were wide so he was still surrounded by Jaffa. They were taking no chances that he might try to escape. Not that he had the strength to. The steps led up to a large building, which was covered in grime. With a closer look, he noticed the walls and the floor were made of marble, he realised now that was what the steps had been made of. They were cracked and worn with time and use, although he wouldn't have noticed at the time even if they had been pristine. All he wanted to be able to do was climb up those infernal steps without falling on his face again. He was relieved to see that the marble floor was smooth, with no rocks that would jump out and trip him up.

"Hey!" He called out in protest, as one of the Jaffa guards pushed him along. The Jaffa's reply consisted of a thwack across Jack's back with a staff weapon. Crashing down, once again, onto his knees, he cried out as his upper arms took the brunt of the attack. By now, the Jaffa were losing patience with Jack, so two of them took an end of the metal bar each and lifted him off the ground. They literally dragged him through a door, into a medium sized room and dropped him onto the ground. Jack heard the click of the lock as the guards turned the key. Jack almost didn't care anymore if he was locked in or not, as he lay face down on the cold stone floor. He didn't move or even look around, as he was totally exhausted.

Time had not seemed to pass, but it must have, before they came for him, because the light seemed different. Once again, he was lifted up by the bar that still restricted his arms and pulled him into a hunched over standing position between the guards. The whole of his body screamed with pain as he tried to resist the Jaffa guards. The large Jaffa dragged him forcibly from his cell, along a hallway and out into the daylight. It was obviously early morning, as the sun was just rising. O'Neill shivered in the chill air, as a cool wind whistled through a gap in the large wall surrounding the castle.

He wasn't sure whether he was relieved or annoyed when they picked him up and threw him into the back of a horse drawn wagon. The ride was bumpy and it hurt his already aching body more, but at least he didn't have to climb down, or more likely be dragged down those marble steps. The wagon wound its bumpy, rough ride down a narrow twisting track. O'Neill was lying face down on foul smelling floorboards. The pole that had his arms hooked over, which was behind his back stopped him from being able to move, or turn over. He desperately wanted to see where he was going. Realising that this was not going to be possible, he closed his eyes and managed to get some semblance of sleep before the journey ended.

O'Neill was rudely awakened when he landed face down on the cold muddy ground. His mouth felt dry and his lips were cracked and bleeding. The pain shot through his body, as the shackles were removed from his wrists and ankles. The sudden relief to his shoulders and arms caused immense pain. He tried to hold in the cry of pain, but was unable to stop the loud grunt, as one of the Jaffa kicked him in the side.

"Get up."

"You could have asked nicely." O'Neill quipped back at the guard, as he slowly staggered to his feet.

From lack of water and sustenance, O'Neill started to fall over, as his vision blurred and the surrounding buildings seemed to spin. The guards realising what was happening, caught him in time, before he hit the dirt. Once again, he was unceremoniously dragged along the ground and was taken into a long low building. Where they stripped him of his clothes and hosed him down, to clean all the mud and blood off him. How he managed to stay standing, even with using the wall as support he could never fathom. The walls and Jaffa dangerously dipped and swirled before his eyes. Fortunately, some of the water actually managed to get into his mouth, so he greedily drank in as much as he could.

He was dressed into prison garb and taken into one of the huts. Here, someone set down a bowl of food and gave him a blanket. Hungrily, he ate the sloppy food. It was quite a messy affair without a spoon. The food was like thin grey oatmeal. _'At least I'm getting some liquid',_ he thought to himself.

Curling up in his blanket he fell asleep, not worrying about tomorrow, letting that day take care of itself.

O'Neill awoke to a loud bell ringing through the camp. He could barely move and his stiffened muscles protested when he slowly sat up. Looking around the crude hut, he noticed many people dressed like him stirring. They were quickly rolling up their blankets and moving towards the door.

"Hey! Where's everyone going?"

Startled faces turned around and looked at him, then ignoring him, turned back towards the door and left the hut. One man stayed, moved over to O'Neill and helped him stand. 

"We are going to work in the fields. If you want to eat, you have to work."

"Ok, I can do that." Leaning lightly on the man's shoulder, O'Neill lowered his head for a minute as he waited for the blackness to leave his vision. Shaking his head clear. "Whoa. Okay. Lead on, McDuff."

"My name is not McDuff. It is Lorton."

"Ah. Sorry, Lorton, you see McDuff is…oh…never mind." By this time they had reached the doorway and O'Neill was able to walk unassisted. Though his body ached and he had a few unhealed cuts on his face, arms and knees, he was surprisingly able to move. He just hoped that he was able to last all day in a field, working.

There was a long line, leading out from another building. Hoping this was where he was going to get some breakfast, he was disappointed. All they were doing were handing in their food bowls and blankets.

It took thirty-five minutes to walk to the nearest field and twenty workers were counted off into the first field and thereafter every two or three minutes or so, another twenty workers were told to go into the field. It was forty-five minutes before it was O'Neill's turn, he and his newfound friend, Lorton, were in the same team. They were told to pull weeds up out of the sludgy wet mud. It was hard going, as some of the roots went down deep. This was back breaking work and with no food in his belly, made it slow going for O'Neill. Nearing midday, they were allowed a break. There was water available for everyone, of which O'Neill drank as much as he could hold without making him vomit. He watched hungrily as his fellow workers pulled out some bread from their tunics and started to eat. Looking around, he could see no bread available for him.

"Lorton. Where did you get the bread?" He asked.

"You will have been given it yesterday evening, when you arrived."

"Nope, not a crumb. I got some slop they called food in a bowl, but no bread."

"That is strange, because everyone is given this bread and gruel when they arrived."

"Well, I didn't see any."

"The idea is, that you get gruel and bread and that will last you the whole day. If you work you get food, if you don't work, no food."

"What if you are sick? I mean I saw many people who didn't come today."

Lorton looked down at his bread that he was eating. He had already eaten half that morning for breakfast, as they walked to the fields. Quickly tearing off a small portion of what was left, he handed it to O'Neill.

"Here, Jack. Take this, or you won't last the day."

Jack's first instinct was to grab it and start eating, as he was very hungry. But manners took over and he hesitated in reaching for it.

"Really, you need this. Take it."

Taking the bread, he started to eat it, nodding his thanks. It wasn't enough to satisfy his hunger, but he thought that just maybe, it would keep him going until the end of the day.

That night, he felt slightly better, as the gruel had somehow managed to fill his aching belly. Whatever was in that gruel seemed to be just enough to keep a grown man going, even if it did taste like sludge. The small flat loaf he had received, he had sequestered under his tunic, close to his body and laid down on it. He did not want it stolen as he slept. He was so tired he knew he would sleep soundly.

On the next day he realised that the slop that they had been served with didn't last very long. He found the gnawing feeling of hunger an irritation while he was working in the field. There were two guys in the field and the only word he could think of to describe them was 'bullies'. They somehow managed to take extra food from people, by pressuring them. When they had started on Lorton, O'Neill immediately intervened. Before they knew it, they were all four rolling in the mud fighting. O'Neill made short work of the guy that he was fighting. As his opponent dropped to the ground, O'Neill turned around to help Lorton, only to see the other man pull out a knife and drive it into Lorton's chest.

"Nooooooooo!" He yelled and threw himself onto the man that had killed his new friend.

Just then, the Jaffa guards came up and pulled O'Neill off the man that had killed Lorton.

"Kree!"

O'Neill was dragged off the field and taken all the way back to the compound. There was a wooden wall with chains and shackles fitted to it. Pulling the battered man against the wall, they shackled his wrists tightly together behind his back. They also chained his ankles together. The chains ran through holes in the wooden wall and were fixed to the other side. They made a rattling sound as the slack was taken up and O'Neill found he had to crouch, as his hands were pulled hard against the wall. He tried to sit down, but pain shot up his arms, as they pulled against his shoulders into an unnatural position. He realised that whatever position he was in, he could not get comfortable.

O'Neill had tried to explain to the Jaffa what had happened, as he was roughly dragged back to the compound. But they either couldn't understand or they didn't want to. He saw the other prisoners come back from the field. He watched hungrily, as they received their food and blanket. He also noticed that there was no sign of Lorton's body. He thought they had most probably buried him out in the fields. Then he saw one of the Jaffa hand some bloodied clothing over to a prisoner to put into storage. He realised that they were Lorton's clothes.

Trying to squat, he found he couldn't do that either. They had his wrists fixed in exactly the right position to produce as much discomfort as possible.


	3. Chapter 3

Prisoners of War

By Arrietty

Chapter Three

General Hammond was shouting. There had been many men that had caused him to shout and this one man that they were now discussing, had been the one that always seemed to at the top of his list.

"What do you mean? 'He just walked through.' Why didn't you stop him?"

The Lieutenant was extremely nervous and tried his hardest to hide the fact. "Sir, we came over the hill and he was just walking through the Stargate. We didn't get there in time to see the address."

Hammond took a deep breath. "Why was he alone?" He spoke more quietly now, trying to control his anger.

"He ordered us off to do a perimeter check and he waited by the Stargate, sir." The airman was slightly more at ease as he was beginning to realise that the general wasn't mad at him.

"So, you have no idea of where he went?"

"No, sir."

"Dismissed." General Hammond said tiredly. He knew exactly where Colonel, soon to be 'Airman', Jack O'Neill had gone.

Klaxons reverberated around the gate room. General Hammond looked up at the ceiling and closed his eyes. "What now?" He said quietly.

"Incoming wormhole, sir." Sgt. Davis announced to General Hammond as he walked into the control room.

The look that crossed Hammond's face was a classic O'Neillism, as he thought to himself 'no kidding.'

"Do we have an IDC, Sergeant?"

"Yes, sir. It is the Alpha site."

"Open the iris, Sergeant."

"Yes, sir."

Sgt. Davis placed his hand, palm down on the release pad, activating the iris. The iris slid back with the familiar soft scraping sound and locked open. Soon after, two men came through the blue surface, making the individual plopping sound as one after another they materialised.

Teal'c and Jonas walked down the ramp towards General Hammond, who had by now gone down to the gate room to greet them.

"General Hammond." Teal'c acknowledged with a small bow of his head.

"Teal'c, Jonas, my office, now."

With an anxious look, Jonas glanced across at Teal'c. Whose reply was just a raised eyebrow.

They quickly followed the Tau'ri general to his office.

After they were seated, General Hammond proceeded to fill them in on what had happened.

"…of course, we cannot send a team after him. My hands are tied. This planet has been made off limits to all military personnel."

General Hammond picked up some folders that were on his desk and moved them to the side. Still looking at the folders, he continued speaking.

"If you wish to continue your vacation at the Alpha site, you have permission to go. You may have as long as you need."

As he said the last word, he looked up quickly and looked them both in the eye.

"Thank you, you are most kind, General Hammond." Teal'c replied bowing his head slightly as he spoke.

"Yes, thank you, General Hammond." Jonas added. 

Teal'c and Jonas started to go through the office doorway, but Jonas stopped and turned to General Hammond.

"Sir, which planet is off limits?"

"Doctor Goren has the details, Mr Quinn."

Three hours later, Teal'c and Jonas Quinn stepped through the Stargate to spend an indefinite time vacationing with Teal'c's son at the Alpha site.

Three hours after that, they were speeding their way through sub space in a Tel'tac towards the planet that Jack O'Neill had gone to, only twenty-four hours previously. It would take them nearly two weeks before they arrived there. And they had to find him on a large planet. They had no idea what awaited them. They knew arriving via Stargate would alert the Jaffa guards, so hopefully they would be able to land without the Goa'uld's knowledge. Fortunately, the Teltac's cloaking system was working.

The door creaked as Sam Carter pushed it open. Lying face down where she had left him that morning, the colonel lay totally still. With growing fear, she quickly crossed the room to where he was.

"Sir?" She asked tentively.

Reaching out her hand, she touched his head. One brown eye opened and stared at her. Sam suddenly realised that she had stopped breathing and let out a lung full of air.

"Carter." Came the muffled reply.

O'Neill pushed up with his hands, but was unable to lift his shoulders from the floor. He closed his eyes in defeat.

Carter dropped the wad of clean rags onto the edge of his tunic that his head lay on and they made clunk as they rolled off the tunic onto the floor. Quickly searching through the rags, she came across a small jar, it had come out of its wrapping and was lying on the floorboards. It was so small it could fit into the palm of her hand and if she closed her fingers over it, you could barely see it. Undoing the jar, she smelt the contents. There was no odour with this ointment. This must be what the Jaffa meant. "Use sparingly," she repeated softly under her breath. Looking up again, she could see that O'Neill had closed his eyes.

Feeling his forehead with her hand, she could tell that he had a fever. Sam decided to wait until she had eaten before starting to clean O'Neill's injuries. It didn't take her long to eat half the contents of the bowl.

With great difficulty, she managed to raise the reluctant colonel into a sitting position. 

"That you, Carter?" His voice rasped in his throat.

"Yes, sir. You have to try and eat this." Very carefully, she fed him the sludgy food.

It wasn't until she had finished eating, that she started to remove the cloths that she had put on his injuries the previous night. The smell reached her, before she actually saw the wounds. She wasn't actually surprised at this, because she knew he had a fever. But what she found under the makeshift bandages was not nice. The surrounding skin (what was left of it) was an angry red colour and hot to the touch. A yellow and green discharge was draining from the swollen cuts. Sam knew that the colonel needed antibiotics, but of course they weren't available, so she made the best of what she had and carefully cleaned his back. After cleaning away the foul smelling discharge, she applied the clear ointment to the open cuts on his back and wrists. 

Sam had also noticed that the knees of his trousers were blood stained. Rolling up his trouser legs, she gently cleaned and applied the ointment to his badly infected knees. That was when she saw the cuts on his feet. Once again she cleaned and used the precious ointment on them. Sam just hoped that this is what it was for. She had taken a giant leap in trust in using this ointment on Colonel O'Neill. But as far as she could see, they had nothing to lose, because if he didn't start to improve, he would die. Again, that night they slept close trying to conserve body warmth.

Carter woke with a start. The warmth that O'Neill had generated by her side had gone. Opening her eyes, she stared straight into brown ones. Colonel O'Neill was sitting up beside her, with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders watching her.

"Sir? Are you all right?" Sam said, as she quickly sat up.

"Peachy!" He replied with a grin.

Carter shot around to his back and started to pull the blanket away from his shoulders.

"Hey! Carter, what do you think you are doing?"

Stopping from what she was doing. "Sorry, sir. Just checking your injuries. I mean you…they…are…were…pretty bad. Sir."

"Heaps better, Carter. But I still don't think I will be on work detail today."

"Yes, sir. I still have some time to check." 

Just then the bell went off. Groaning, Carter placed the blanket back onto his shoulders and stood up stiffly. Crouching down again, she handed him half of the loaf of bread and the small jar. 

"Keep this hidden, sir. It is obviously working, your wounds are much better."

Nodding in agreement, he tucked the jar and the bread out of sight, under his blanket.

Carter didn't even have enough time to get O'Neill some more water. She ran out of the hut and just made it in time to hand in her things and get through the gate.

Back in the hut, O'Neill pulled the blanket off his shoulders just using one arm. His right arm stayed still, by his side. Rolling his shoulders painfully, he cried out and clutched his right shoulder with his left. "This is not good. Only one wing." He stated.

If he weren't in so much pain, it would have been comical to see him try and put his tunic on with only one arm in operation. But somehow he managed it. This was the day that he had to use to build up his strength again. It was remarkable that he was so improved from the previous day. All the infection was obviously gone. The ointment must have very powerful healing properties. His thoughts immediately went to Doctor Fraiser. "She most probably would give her eye teeth for this." He chuckled to himself.

Using the clean rags he cleaned and re-dressed the wounds on his knees, feet and anything else he could reach. Remembering to go carefully with the ointment, he applied them to his injuries. They were knitting with nice new pink skin and amazing to see. Apart from his shoulder, he had improved immensely.

That evening, he watched the tired cold prisoners come in from the fields. He didn't realise how anxious he was, until he felt relief of seeing Carter trudging her way towards him. He was concerned, as she seemed to be keeping her head down.

"Carter? You ok?"

"Fine, sir. How about you?" She replied, as she plonked herself down beside him.

He still couldn't see her face properly in the dim light. Though he tried to catch a glimpse of her face, she managed to avoid his gaze. Carter quickly scuttled around to his back and started to clean and dress his wounds.

"Sir, please eat. I will finish the rest after I have done this."

"Carter, what's up?"

"Nothing, sir."

O'Neill turned a thoughtful look to the bowl of slop. "I have done all the bits I could reach, Carter. It's just my back."

"Good, sir." Came a tired reply.

"This stuff is amazing." He spoke quietly, as he didn't want anyone else to hear.

He heard her sharp intake of breath, as his back was revealed to her. Without thinking, she shot around to face him and with a large smile. "Sir, it is all healed! I mean, the infection has all gone, no blood, it is healing nice…ly." She stopped as O'Neill frowned at her.

"What happened to you?" He asked quite loudly.

"Nothing I can't handle, sir."

Without thinking, he reached up his good arm and touched with his hand, the livid bruise that was down one side of her face.

"And the other guy?"

"Oh, I think he got the message, sir." Moving back out of his line of vision, he didn't see her grimace as she knelt heavily on one knee.

That night, once again, they lay close to each other, trying to keep warm. They were both on the verge of shivering. O'Neill knew that they would not last long, if this cold kept up.

It was the following day and they were out in the fields. O'Neill was exhausted, it had turned extremely hot during the day and there was no shade. His shoulder was giving him trouble and his tunic was rubbing on the new skin that had formed over his injuries. As far as he could tell, he had another hour, until midday. Looking over at Carter, he could see her surreptitiously putting something into her tunic. Glancing up at O'Neill, she flashed him one of her gorgeous smiles that for some reason always made his knees go weak. Smiling back, he then bent down and carried on pulling out the tough weeds from the now hard dry ground.

The weather had changed drastically in the last couple of days. Blazing hot during the day and freezing cold at night. The ground was hard with frost in the morning that numbed their feet, as they walked out to the fields. The heat was bad, as it drew out their much-needed moisture during the day. They never had enough time in the day to replenish what they had lost. The rest of the day was taken up in walking or sleeping. O'Neill flicked the sweat out of his eyes, as he bent over the ground. Picking up some more small stones, he threw them to the side. They seemed to get in the way all the time. He just hoped that they weren't expected to clear them too.

Thankfully, he heard the clanging of the midday bell. His half of the bread had already got pretty dusty and even a little sweaty. Trying hard not to think of that, he stiffly climbed to his feet. Pulling out the now, disgusting bread he started to chew on a piece of it. His stomach rumbled in appreciation. He had started to walk towards Carter, but she had turned away from him and went with the other women to a different shelter. Not thinking clearly, he dismissed her behaviour and thankfully sank down on an old log beside the water barrel. Now was the time to tank up on all the lost fluids.

It was towards the end of the half hour break that it happened. Three men had surrounded Carter and were pushing her. All the other women had quickly left the shelter and gone back into the fields. Though he knew that Carter was quite capable of looking after herself, he didn't want her to be treated like he had, when he had got into a fight previously.

Standing up, he swiftly moved over to the small group.

"Is there a problem?"

One of the men had Carter's arms behind her back, while another was pulling her bread out of her tunic. There wasn't much left, as she had eaten most of it. The man that was holding her captive sported a bleeding nose. The third man turned and faced O'Neill.

'Oh, crap!' "We gotta stop meeting like this."

It was the man that had killed Lorton. Number one troublemaker of the prison camp. Before the man had a chance to react to O'Neill's presence, O'Neill threw himself in a full body dive at him. It didn't take long for the other two men to join in the melee. Carter then tried to pull off one of the men from O'Neill, as he seemed to be at the bottom of the pile.

Carter felt two strong arms come around her waist and drag her away from the fighting men. Two other Jaffa guards pulled the men apart. Instead of Lorton lying still on the ground, it was O'Neill, though, fortunately, he was still breathing.

Coughing on the dust, he slowly stood up. Turning around, he looked at the Jaffa guards who were glaring at him.

"Not again!" Closing his eyes, he held out his wrists to them. Well one wrist, as the other one still was fixed to his side. The recent fight had freshened up the pain in his shoulder.

"Get back to the fields." The Jaffa that still had his arms around Carter said.

The three troublemakers moved quickly towards their designated field, while the other two Jaffa followed them.

O'Neill stayed rooted to the spot, he was not going to move until this Jaffa had let go of his major.

"It's all right, sir."

Slowly. Almost reluctantly the Jaffa released Carter.

"Back to the fields and stay out of trouble." He admonished and walked away.

"Sir that was the Jaffa that gave me the ointment and bandages."

"Oh, good, Carter." He nodded.

Glancing at the retreating back of the Jaffa, he signed her to go in front of him. "We'd better get back to work."

"Yes, sir."

He honestly wasn't sure how he made it up the steps to the hut. This was the first day that they had managed to receive a full bowl of 'food' each. He was almost too tired to eat. Carter was carrying both blankets. He had nearly forgotten to grab one and if Carter hadn't called him back they would have been very cold tonight. His mind was hazy, he couldn't think clearly. He automatically scooped the food into his mouth and swallowed the disgusting mush down without tasting it. He watched as Carter laid one of the blankets down on the cold floorboards. Without even speaking or thanking her, he laid himself down on it and drifted off into a dreamless sleep. 

Something had woken him. It must be because he was cold, as he was shivering. Moving closer to Carter, he lifted his good arm over her and pulled her closer. The moonlight was coming in through the window and shining onto her hair. As the warmth from her body began to alleviate the shivering, he watched something move in her hair. Jack watched mesmerised as a small light brown insect crawled along a shaft of Sam's hair.

Jack woke with a start and sat up. He must have fallen asleep again.

"Carter, you have lice." He announced in a loud voice.

Fortunately, the bell that woke everyone up in the morning drowned out his statement, but not Carter's reaction.

"What!"

Jumping up, she ran her hands unsuccessfully through her hair and rubbed them back and forth to try and get rid of the lice.

"UGH! What's so funny?" She watched in horror, as O'Neill clutched his middle while he laughed at her antics.

Peering closely, she looked at his hair.

"Hah! You've got them too." She said with a triumphant grin.

"Crap! They must be in the blankets." While getting up off the floor, he scratched his itchy head.

Peering out the window, O'Neill beckoned to Carter. "Come on, or we'll miss dinner."


	4. Chapter 4

**Prisoners of War**

**By Arrietty**

Chapter Four

No one saw the two men stealthily slip through the trees towards the compound. It had taken them thirteen days to reach the planet. They had managed to land and hide the Tel'tac without anyone seeing them. Now came the hard part, locating O'Neill and Carter. Fortunately, Teal'c and Jonas had brought supplies with them, so they didn't go hungry. They watched patiently all day for any sign of O'Neill or Carter. There didn't seem to be many people that they could see in the camp, that weren't already sick or elderly.

They were rewarded for their patient waiting, by a large group of cold tired prisoners trudging back towards the compound. However they tried, they couldn't see O'Neill or Carter amongst them. It was very difficult, as all the men had beards and they saw no sign of a blond woman within the crowd. With disappointment, the two men melted silently back into the trees, after the gates clanged shut behind the last of the work detail.

The shadows were just beginning to lengthen, as the end of the day approached. It would not be long and O'Neill and Carter would be able to go back to their food and their hut. Both of them had kept their eyes open this past week, but there hadn't been an opportunity to escape.

O'Neill anxiously glanced over at Carter, who was only just a few feet away. They were still working, even though it had obviously gone well past finishing time.

"Carter."

Raising her head, she looked at O'Neill.

"Is it my imagination or are we a bit later tonight?"

Carter looked around and noticed Jaffa marching towards where they worked.

"Uh oh." She stated.

Twisting around, O'Neill looked behind him. This did not look good, as there were eight of them and usually there were only four or five.

"Kree!" They announced, as they arrived.

"All prisoners, this way." Grabbing hold of the nearest prisoner, which happened to be Carter. One guard pulled her up and then dragged her along. Before O'Neill could act, she had shrugged off the grasp and was walking free.

It took a good half hour to get where they were being taken. It had been a hard slog, as they had to climb quite a steep hill.

"Just what we need to end a perfect day!" O'Neill announced, as he and Carter with the other prisoners looked down on a field. In the centre of it, was a giant stump that was half out of the ground. Sixteen prisoners were pulling on ropes that had been fixed to the stump. With eighteen prisoners that had just been gathered, it would make thirty-four men and women to pull out this stump. Even then they would find it hard to do.

It took an hour and a half to finally release the stump from the hard packed soil. By now, dusk had settled and the large sphere of one of the moons had risen above the horizon.

"Now, I s'pose they want us to drag it somewhere." O'Neill grumbled. He was hungry, tired and his shoulder was throbbing with the pain after the exertion that it had been put through.

It took them a long time to walk back to the compound. They didn't have to worry about the food getting cold, as it usually was anyway. By the time they had got into the hut, they were frozen. Thankfully they all had been issued with extra blankets. Not speaking to one another, they slowly ate their food. When O'Neill had finished his, he took one of the blankets and ripped it into wide strips. Taking one of Carter's feet, he wound the blanket piece around her foot.

"This should keep your feet warm." He said with a smile, as he started to do the same with her other foot.

Carter tiredly nodded at him, as she leant against the side of the hut. O'Neill then proceeded to bind his own feet in the same way. As they began to warm slowly he could feel the burning sensation, as the newly acquired chill blains made themselves known. Watching Carter's face, he realised that she had the same problem. Carter shifted her legs and something dropped onto the floor with a clunking sound.

"Whatchya got, Carter?"

"Oh." She said, as she quickly scooped up a handful of pebbles. "I think these have Naquadah in them."

"How many have you got?" He queried.

"Quite a lot, I have been trying to get different samples from different fields."

"Can we use them to get out of here?"

"No." She shook her head. "But I think they have some special qualities, that I haven't co…"

Jack leant over a bit and went into a fit of coughing automatically stopping Carter in her tracks. He felt a tightening in his chest and it made pain shoot up into his shoulder.

That night, O'Neill had great trouble sleeping. Whichever position he was in, he couldn't stop coughing. Eventually, he moved away from Carter, as he didn't want to keep her awake too.

Sam Carter felt her eyes fill with tears as she heard the dreaded death knell of Colonel O'Neill's dry hacking cough. She had hoped at first that it wasn't 'the cough'. They had commented before that as soon as they heard the first cough, the person that was coughing was usually dead within three days. Sam felt the coolness of the air, as O'Neill moved away from her when he had another coughing fit. Deciding that she wouldn't sleep anyway, she rolled over and moved over next to him. Now, the pressure of escape had increased tenfold.

The morning came too soon. Neither of them had slept much that night and they were exhausted. Wearily, they climbed to their feet, as the bell made a muffled clanging sound that for once did not echo around the camp. Carter rubbed her fist wrapped in her sleeve on the glass window, so she could see. But she couldn't, there was a thick freezing fog that obscured the other huts. When they went to go outside they found out that they had been locked in.

Resigned to the fact that they were stuck, Carter sat back down next to O'Neill, who once again was trying to control his coughing. He was in obvious pain, but she had no way that she could help him.

"Looks like we are stuck, sir."

"Why…(cough, cough)…what's happening? (Cough, cough)."

"There is a pea soup of a fog out there, sir. I don't think they have the man power to control everyone while that fog is there."

"Well…(cough, cough)…look on the bright side, we can get some more slee…" O'Neill then proceeded to go into a fit of coughing, that made him start to heave. Fortunately, nothing came up and he was able to eventually control it.

Carter looked up from O'Neill at the rest of the occupants of the hut, they were all looking everywhere except at them. They knew too, what was going to happen to O'Neill in three days time.

After about an hour, they were let out of the hut, in fact everyone was told to get out. Any sick people that would normally have stayed behind were ousted out too. The door was securely locked behind everyone. It looked like all the prisoners had been locked out of the huts. They were standing in small groups shivering in the thick fog. This immediately started O'Neill off coughing again, as the moisture crept into his lungs.

The fog finally lifted at midday. They were led out through the main gates to the outside. The wind had picked up and blown the fog out of the valley. Bright sunshine brightened up the day, warming the frozen prisoners. That day, many of the prisoners stayed behind. While others were made to bury any prisoners, that had died during the night and that morning in the freezing fog.

O'Neill was having trouble walking; he knew that he had to get some food into his belly. Neither of them had had enough to eat these past two weeks, so every morsel of food was precious. Now he was sick, he knew it was imperative that he ate.

As O'Neill stumbled through the forest, he was unaware of two sets of eyes that followed every faltering step he took. Leaning across, he rested a hand on Carter's shoulder for support. He had no idea how he was going to get through the rest of the day. Only by sheer will power alone, would he manage it.

By that evening, Carter had to physically help O'Neill walk back to the compound. With her arm around his waist and O'Neill's arm over her shoulder, she basically half carried him back. She knew that this was most probably the last day that he would survive. He wasn't even strong enough to escape now. There was no hope left. Sam felt numb inside and out, the cold took care of the outside, while her military training took care of her inside.

Once again, she had to feed O'Neill, he was too ill to feed himself. After he had finished, he heaved it up again. He was going fast, she knew that he wouldn't last the night. She let him lie down and wrapped him in all the blankets. She cleaned up the mess and then went outside to get rid of it. While she was washing her hands under the tap, she observed a commotion over by the long low shed. This was where all the new prisoners were processed. Turning off the tap, she watched intently at what was happening.

A slim man was being led out of the shed and was handed the usual bowl of slop and loaf of bread.

"Jonas." She whispered under her breath.

A small flicker of hope began to burn in her depths, as she watched Jonas Quinn walk across the compound towards the huts. As Jonas passed her, he looked at her, then looked away and kept walking. Slowly, Carter followed him to where he was going. When he reached a hut, he stopped, turned around and waited.

Carter quickly walked towards where O'Neill and she slept. Looking out of the corner of her eye, she could see Jonas following her. As soon as she was in the hut, she anxiously looked over at O'Neill, who was curled up on the floor, hugging his stomach.

"Sam!" Jonas whispered.

"Jonas, what are you doing here?" She asked, then wrapped her arms around him and held tight.

"Teal'c is outside."

Sam put her hand up to him to stop him from talking. "Come, quickly. Colonel O'Neill is very sick. We have to get out of here tonight." She was whispering very quietly, as she did not want anyone else to hear.

Moving over to where the colonel lay, Jonas asked. "What is wrong with him?"

"He has 'the cough'. I think it has something to do with the area we are in. It could be the dampness of the air, or something in the soil. I don't know, but many of the prisoners die from it. And they die quickly. Usually it takes up to three days. This is the colonel's second day, but his body has taken a lot of punishment since he has been here. I don't think he will live through the night."

Jonas started to lean closely towards Carter, stopped and then moved back. He had already noticed the stench that emanated from all the prisoners, as he had entered the hut and he had been quite happy to put up with that. But when he noticed something crawl out of Sam's hair and then back in again. Well, that was too much.

"What?" She asked.

"Um…Sam, there is something living in your hair."

Sam closed her eyes, took a deep breath and felt the warm flush work up her neck onto her face. "Yes, Jonas. They are lice, they live in the blankets and now they live on me, Colonel O'Neill and everyone in this room."

Jonas quickly dropped his blanket onto the floor and moved away from it. Sam smiled and picked up the blanket and laid it over O'Neill's shivering form.

Jonas, found himself scratching his scalp. Groaned within himself and started to speak.

"We were planning on escaping tomorrow night. So we just have to trust that Teal'c is watching us."

Sam moved closer to Jonas, she was beginning to get colder, as she was sitting still. Jonas without thinking, shuffled away from her. Ignoring his discomfort, she grabbed hold of his arm. "We will freeze if we don't sit closer."

"Oh." Jonas looked suitably contrite and moved back beside Sam.

"There is a stash of weapons just the other side of the fence. I know where they are. Teal'c will cut through the fence, when I give him the signal. All we have to do is get there unseen."

"That won't be a problem, as the guards don't seem to mind us going outside during the night. The problem will be getting Colonel O'Neill outside without the guards getting suspicious."

Jonas glanced over at the shivering form of the colonel and then looked back at Sam. "We'll have to just hope we are lucky."

Jonas got to his feet and slowly made his way out of the hut. Just like Carter had said, the guards ignored him, as he sauntered towards the latrines. The weapons were stashed behind the latrines, just the other side of the fence. This way, the building should obscure their activities. Jonas slipped around the back of the latrines and waited for Teal'c. Even though Jonas was searching for him, he didn't see him until he was crouching down right in front of him. Jonas moved over to the wire.

"Colonel O'Neill is very ill. If we don't get him out of here tonight, he will die."

Teal'c nodded his head and then proceeded to snip the wire with wire cutters. Jonas looked around him.

"I'll go back and get them."

Once again, Teal'c nodded without saying a word. Not once stopping from what he was doing.

By the time Jonas had got back to the hut, Carter had O'Neill in a sitting position. She had tied a blanket around her shoulders and was tying one around O'Neill's.

Jonas noticed that the colonel was awake, he seemed aware of what was happening, but still in obvious pain. Jonas could still hear the rasping sound, as O'Neill struggled to breath.

"Hey, Jonas." He croaked out quietly.

"Jonas, I need your help here."

Jonas immediately went over to help Sam get O'Neill to his feet. It was easier than he anticipated, as O'Neill had lost quite a lot of weight while being captive. 

Fortunately, they hadn't woken anyone in the hut and even if they had, they hadn't been stopped or interrupted from what they were doing.

How O'Neill managed, no one will ever know, but he succeeded in going out of the hut and right across the compound without a single cough. It was just as they reached the latrines, that they were stopped.

"Kree. Where are you going?"

Sam turned and faced the two Jaffa that had stopped them. One of them was the friendly Jaffa that had helped her before.

"This man is sick and he needs our help." Carter then let go of O'Neill and waited while Jonas took him into the latrines. They were stuck, as the Jaffa didn't look like they were going to move away. 

Eventually, they wandered off towards the other side of the compound. Knocking on the wall, Carter signalled to them that the guards had left. By now, O'Neill was almost a dead weight for Jonas to carry.

"Sam, need help here." He whispered.

Quickly, moving forward, she placed her arm around O'Neill and being very careful of his damaged shoulder, she left his arm down by his side.

Once they had reached the wire, they settled O'Neill onto the ground.

"Teal'c, can you help, please. The colonel has lost consciousness."

"Yes, Jonas Quinn." Teal'c quickly climbed through the gap and lifted O'Neill into a fireman's lift. It wasn't as easy to get him back through the wire, but he managed it. It wasn't until they were on the other side, that O'Neill started coughing, as he came conscious again. Carter quickly placed her hand over his mouth to try and muffle the sound. But, fortunately, no one had seemed to hear him.

When Sam's hand came away from the colonel's mouth, it was sticky. Holding her hand out to the moonlight, she was disturbed to see a dark substance across her hand.

"Blood." Stated Teal'c.

"Yes, I think it is, Teal'c."

Moving silently and quickly through the forest, they made their way towards the Tel'tac that they had hidden.

They heard the Jaffa before they saw them. The Tel'tac had been discovered, how, they will never know. Most probably a guard walked into it by accident, as the cloaking device would have kept it from prying eyes.

Fortunately, by now, Colonel O'Neill was totally unconscious again and he was quiet, except for the rasping sound that came from his laboured breathing.

Silently, they moved back into the cover of the trees. Just as they settled down into a crouch, they heard the engines of the Tel'tac start up. They watched aghast as their way home flew off up into the clouds.

"Well, there goes that avenue." Carter looked thoughtful for a moment and then continued speaking. "We'll have to try for the Stargate. With weapons we should be able to overpower the guards."

"Indeed." Nodding in agreement, Teal'c slung O'Neill's unconscious body over his shoulder. Jonas watched amazed, at how effortlessly Teal'c could do this.

With Carter taking point and Jonas watching their six, they moved on towards their only way home.

It took the rest of the night and nearly all day to reach their destination. They very carefully avoided the large building with the many steps. None of them realising that O'Neill had previously struggled up those steps just over two weeks previously. Every two hours, they stopped for Teal'c to rest and to try and get some liquid into O'Neill. They had already given him some antibiotics earlier when he was conscious, but he had just heaved them up again.

Sam Carter was tired and she hadn't eaten properly for a long time. Even with the food that Teal'c and Jonas had given her, she found her strength waning fast. Jonas had now taken point and she was trudging along behind the others. She saw Teal'c stiffen and then heard the tramp and rustle of booted feet move through some bushes on her right. They were trapped and so close to the Stargate, too.

Teal'c didn't even get a chance to lower O'Neill to the ground, as the Jaffa came and stood before them with their Staff weapons drawn.

"Kree!" The lead one of the four announced.

In one fluid movement, Teal'c dropped O'Neill to the ground and raised his staff weapon into a horizontal position, fired it up and shot the first Jaffa. Instantly, there was another staff weapon fired, but instead of an SG-1 member being hit a Jaffa dropped to the ground.

Looking up startled, Jonas watched as the Jaffa who had fired the deadly shot, swivelled his staff weapon around and pointed it at the remaining Jaffa. Without hesitation he fired the weapon at his comrade.

Through this whole split second exercise, Teal'c had his weapon trained on the Jaffa that still lived.

"Teal'c, it is all right. He is a friend." She moved forward towards the Jaffa. "Hello, my name is Major Samantha Carter…and you are?"

The Jaffa bowed his head to Carter in respect and then spoke. "Greetings, Major Samantha Carter. My name is Belt'ac." Turning around slightly to face Teal'c, he handed his Staff Weapon to him on his outstretched hands.

"Teal'c, I have heard of your wondrous deeds, how you have defied the false gods to free our people. I wish to follow you and your cause to make us once again, a whole people. Free!" He spoke quietly, but proudly. "To live and die as we please."

Teal'c handed back his Staff Weapon. "These are members of the Tau'ri. They are my friends and I serve with them in the fight against the oppressive false gods."

"Well, actually…I'm not of the Tau…" Jonas stopped speaking as the double stare from two Jaffa effectively silenced him.

"Belt'ac, is the Stargate clear?" Carter asked.

Jonas moved forward and spoke carefully. "Chappa'ai."

"Yes, Jonas, thank you. The Chappa'ai."

"Yes, Major Samantha Carter, the Chappa'ai is free of guards, but only for a short while. We have to move swiftly."

Once again, Teal'c lifted O'Neill effortlessly onto his shoulder, but this time, he handed his Staff Weapon to Jonas to carry.

As Belt'ac had said, there were no signs of any Jaffa guarding the Stargate. Carter quickly moved over to the damaged MALP and checked to see if it was reparable. Fortunately, it was, it only took her ten minutes to get audio going on the radio. No visual, but they didn't need that.

Jonas quickly dialled up the Stargate and punched through SG-1's IDC. Carter leant into the radio and spoke into it.

"SGC. Are you reading me? This is Major Carter, come in, please."

"This is the SGC. Major Carter, we read you loud and clear." Sgt. Davis' voice was a welcome sound to all of them.

"This is General Hammond, what is your situation, Major Carter?"

"All members of SG-1 are present, sir. Will need a medical team for Colonel O'Neill. Request permission to bring a Jaffa rebel with us, sir."

"Permission granted, Major. Over and out."

Moving quickly, they climbed the steps towards the wormhole. Great relief washed over Carter as she was sucked into the swirling vortex and stepped out the other side.

It was then that it hit her, she stank, in fact she hadn't washed properly in over two weeks and she had things CRAWLING in her hair. Everywhere she looked, everyone looked pristine clean and smart. And by the looks on their faces, she must look as terrible as she felt. All this flitted through her mind, in the few seconds that it took for her to get to the gurney that Colonel O'Neill had been laid upon. Turning to Doctor Fraiser who was quickly ordering medics to move him to the infirmary.

"Janet, he has bee…"

"Tell me as we move, Sam." She interrupted.

Janet listened in horrified silence, as Sam filled her in on what had happened to Colonel O'Neill.

"…I don't know what is actually wrong with him now, all I know is that people die on the third day and it is now the third day. He can't keep anything down and he is coughing up blood."

"Thank you, Sam." Stopping Sam from going any further with her hand, she bustled after Colonel O'Neill, as he was wheeled into an isolation room.

Once in the room, Doctor Janet Fraiser quickly assessed O'Neill's condition. She was amazed at the healed welts and new scars that she could see on his body. But was distressed to see how emaciated he was. A nurse had already installed a drip into his arm, while they saw to new cuts and abrasions that he had acquired on his journey through the forest.

Whatever they did, they couldn't alleviate his laboured breathing, they just had to wait and see if time would heal.

Meanwhile, Sam had been given a thorough check over. After she had been prodded and poked, blood taken and inoculations given they had sent her off towards the showers clutching a bottle of **'Lice free - guaranteed to kill eggs'** written in large black letters around the middle of it. Carefully, trying to conceal it, as she didn't want the whole of the base to know, she made her way to the showers. She had earlier observed Jonas moving off towards the showers, with a similar bottle up his shirt. Which had amused her.

Sam felt like a totally different person when she came out of the locker room. It was surprising what a good hot shower could do to a person. She still felt tired and weak, but now she felt clean. She still had forty-five minutes to spare, before reporting to General Hammond. Time to find out how the colonel was and also get something to eat.

As she walked down the grey corridors of the SGC, she turned a corner and walked straight into Sgt. Siler.

"Major Carter! It is good to have you home, Ma'am."

"Thank you, Siler, it is good to be home." As she walked on towards the infirmary, an overwhelming urge to cough came over her. Within seconds, Siler was by her side.

"Major Carter?" He asked in obvious concern. He had seen Major Carter slump over and lean against the wall.

"Got…to…go…to infirm…ary." She spluttered out.

When they arrived at the infirmary, she was surprised to see large plastic sheeting, surrounding the colonel's bed. She couldn't see in properly, as the air inside was opaque. As soon as Doctor Fraiser saw Sam arrive and the state she was in, it was all action.

"Sam, come quickly, in here." Taking hold of Sam's arm, she pulled her into the tent that surrounded the colonel's bed. Once inside, she could see a machine was pumping vapour into the air. Immediately, she felt relief from her coughing, as the vapour penetrated her lungs. She also noticed that the tent was big enough to accommodate another bed. This Janet led her to and then with a small push, made her sit down on the side of it.

"Janet, what is it?" She asked waving her arm around in the steam filled tent.

"The ointment that you brought back with you has amazing healing properties. Bel'tac said that if Colonel O'Neill breathes the steam that comes off this, it should heal him. We have already noticed an improvement in his condition. And of course…" Janet smiled softly at Sam, as she said this. "…you had instant relief when you breathed this. Didn't you?"

Nodding in agreement, Sam looked over at her CO. The pallor of his face had already begun to improve, as the life giving oxygen permeated his body.

"You will need to breathe this for at least three days, for it to have a permanent effect on you. Apparently, there is a substance in the soil that gives off poison. All the native people of this planet would chew the leaves of the plant that the ointment is made of. This would then neutralise the poison in their systems. Of course all Goa'uld's and Jaffa are immune."

"What about Jonas? Won't he be affected?"

"Yes. He has been, but only mildly. Bel'tac brought some of the leaves through and they will be enough to neutralise any poison that is in Jonas' system. He doesn't need as much as you, as he was only on the planet for a short time."

Looking intently at Sam, Janet continued with a question. "Sam, how do you feel?"

"Hungry, tired and pleased to be home." Giving Janet a smile.

"OK, Sam, I will get one of the orderlies to bring you something to eat. But you need to rest." Turning from the small temporary room, Janet left.

Sam slipped off the side of her bed and padded over to where Colonel O'Neill lay. She listened to his laboured breathing and even to her untrained ear, it seemed easier than when they were on the planet. She noticed that his hair was wet and someone had given him a shave, smiling to herself, she realised that the dreaded shampoo had been used here too. Pleased to see that he was sleeping comfortably, she turned to go back to her own bed and lie down.

"Carter." A quiet voice spoke her name.

Turning around, she looked directly into the open eyes of Colonel O'Neill. "Hey, sir. How are you, now?"

"Oh, peachy!" He replied with a little more strength in his voice. "What's with the fog?" Rolling his eyes up while looking up at the makeshift ceiling.

"It's the ointment, sir. When you add water and heat it to above boiling point, it then turns into va…"

"Ack!" Holding his hand up to her. "You can stop right there, Carter. I know how steam is made. I assume we are at the SGC?" He asked.

"Yes, sir, we are." Smiling at him, she backed up to her bed again and sat down. Just then an orderly came in, with Doctor Fraiser hot on his heels.

"Ah, I thought I heard voices. Good to see you are awake, Colonel. Do you think you could manage some lunch?"

"You bet, Doc. Just one request, no oatmeal or bread."

"That is two requests, but I'll see what I can do." Nodding to the orderly, who had already placed the tray of food down in front of Major Carter, she moved over to check on the colonel's drip and check his vitals. The orderly promptly left to get another tray for the colonel.

Doctor Fraiser watched silently, as Sam removed her bread roll off its small plate and pushed half of her hot casserole onto the now empty plate. Sam then picked up the dinner plate of food, with a fork and gave it to the colonel. Janet was surprised at what she saw and was even more surprised when she observed the colonel nod at Sam, murmur a thank you and start eating it. Sam took up the small plate and using her dessertspoon started to eat her meal.

"This is so nice having utensils, isn't it, sir?"

Nodding vigorously, a muffled "yes" came from the colonel. Janet was further surprised at how quickly the colonel had improved. He was now sitting up and tucking into his meal with obvious relish. There was no sign of his laboured breathing and only the odd cough. _'This stuff is amazing.'_ She thought to herself. Though, she didn't envy the colonel's predicament, as he hadn't faced General Hammond's wrath yet.

It was a week before Colonel O'Neill was summoned to General Hammond's office. Apart from still being malnourished and his shoulder was still feeling a little stiff; he hadn't felt better for a very long time. Whatever was in those plants had rejuvenated his whole body. He had noticed that Carter seemed to have even more energy than she had before. He was walking quite quickly towards General Hammond's office, not that he wanted to get there in a hurry, but because he was late and he was pretty sure he was in enough trouble without adding to it.

As he arrived at the general's office door, it opened and Carter came out. She seemed pleased with herself. Looking up at the colonel, she held out her hand and took hold of his arm as she closed the office door.

"Sir. You remember what I told you about the pebbles on the planet?"

"Yes, Carter. You thought they were Naquadah."

"Well, I was right. I received the analysis only about forty minutes ago. It is as pure as you can get without any processing. The whole planet is littered with them."

"Yes, I know. They were a pain."

"Yes, I agree with you, sir, but they just maybe worth more than gold to you, sir."

O'Neill looked quizzingly at Carter. "Remember, sir. They are just littered all over the ground – loose." She smiled at him and watched the look of understanding slowly dawn on his face.

Giving a large smile at Carter, he turned, knocked and then opened the door to General Hammond's office.

Sam was half way down the corridor, when she first heard it. She knew what the general sounded like, when he was dressing someone down, but this time it exceeded all past experiences. Stopping where she stood, she could hear the loud verbal noise emanating from his office, she wasn't able to hear what was said, but she was glad that she was this side of the door. Smiling quietly to herself, she proceeded down towards Jonas' office.

In her quest to find Jonas, Sam had wandered into the commissary and there he was, his head in his notebook, furiously writing.

"Hey, Jonas." Calling his attention, as she sat down opposite him.

"Oh, hi, Sam." Looking up briefly at her, he then looked back at what he was doing.

"Well, it is pure."

"What?" He looked up at her.

"The Naquadah, it is pure. I mean really pure, the best we have ever come across."

"Great!" He nodded enthusiastically as he spoke. "You have found a source of Naquadah that is pure, but the planet is fortified and the soil is potentially lethal."

"Yes!" She replied, with a smile.

Jonas was getting very curious now. "So, what are you so pleased about, then?"

"Well – I brought some back with me." She was still smiling.

"How much did you bring back?"

"Enough." Sam was smiling broader now. "More than we could ever mine in two months."

"But, that would be too heavy, Sam. It doesn't make sense."

"I told you it was pure." With that, Sam stood up. "General Hammond is pleased; it will save the government a tremendous amount of funding. Also, this should take some heat of the SGC programme."

"…And off the colonel too, I should think." Jonas added to her sentence.

Just then, Jack came strolling into the commissary, with Teal'c. He seemed quite at ease, considering the bawling out he had just received.

"Hi ya, kids." He sat down next to Carter as he spoke.

Jonas looked at Jack. "So, you are still a colonel then…Colonel?"

"I don't know what you mean, Jonas." He answered with innocence written all over his face.

Jonas rolled his eyes and looked at Teal'c, who by now was sitting next to him. Teal'c just raised one eyebrow. "Indeed."

**The End**


End file.
